Reunions and Introductions
by Trscroggs
Summary: Years after being parted, Daria and Jane meet again. Life has had changes for both, great and small. And some of the largest changes come in the smallest packages.
1. Chapter 1

I created this story on the PPMB. Hence it was posted in a block by block style format. I've decided to mostly keep that format, I'm going to combine some of the parts to help story flow.

OoOoOoO

Jane Lane clutched the little slip of paper with trepidation as she gave the address written on it one last check. It had been over a decade since she had last heard from the owner of the apartment written on the paper, and even longer since they had last seen each other.

The thirty-two year old artist looked up at the apartment building in front of her. She had moved to this small town in New York from LA to get away from her 'friends'. Jane thought it ironic that an old e-mail reminded her that her oldest friend lived here instead, Daria Morgendorffer. Jane hadn't seen Daria since accepting a scholarship to the art school in LA. She hadn't heard from Daria since the start of 'dark days' as Jane thought of those first five years in LA.

Jane had called the number included in the e-mail, expecting it to be disconnected. Instead a familiar voice had answered. Daria had sounded shocked when she heard Jane's voice on the line. Daria claimed to be delighted Jane was in the area. She invited Jane over to her apartment that evening so they could catch up.

Jane had been startled to discover that her friend's condo was only three blocks away from her own. The neighborhood was undergoing a rebuilding period and you could get a nice place for next to nothing, if you were willing to do some work on it.

Jane knocked on Daria's door at 8pm sharp. Daria let Jane in and lead her to the kitchen. Daria raised an eyebrow when Jane politely refused a coffee, but had no trouble pouring water for Jane instead.

Jane took the time to look at her friend. It didn't surprise her at all that Daria basically looked the same, just older. Her skirt and top were tasteful and casual all at once. The only truly major change in her appearance was the addition of thinner glasses with a lighter almost-stylish frame.

OoOoOoO

"So," Jane began a little awkwardly, "How's the folks?"

Daria visibly winced. "That's a bit of a story. Why don't you answer first so we can get it out of the way?"

"Ok…Mom and Dad are still the same, traveling all over the place without a care in the world. Don't know where they are this month, but I'm not sure I really care. I haven't heard from Penny since I left for college, but I'd guess she's still somewhere south of the border, selling junk to tourists. Wind got married again. This time he actually seems to be doing it right, they've been together for almost eight years now."

"Let's see…Summer actually has managed to corral her kids together and keep them that way, something about 'her or the state' I heard. Trent is doing well too; he's out in LA selling songs and the like to other bands. Turns out he's a pretty decent song writer, as long as you don't let him do lyrics. Dad and Mom still own the house in Lawndale. They're using automatic payments or something to keep it, but nobody has actually lived there for years. It wouldn't surprise me if the city's condemned it for lack of upkeep. Now it's your turn, amiga."

Daria let out a long sigh. "I told you about Grandma Barksdale right?"

"I think so…she's your mom's mom right? Paid for your cousin's wedding? She sounded rich if I'm remembering right."

"That's her. The whole mess with my family was ultimately her fault. Granny Barksdale had three kids: Rita, Helen, and Amy. The first child she favored and gave anything she wanted. The second child she disdained and delighted in pointing out her every failure. The third child she ignored and forced to raise herself."

"Granny Barksdale's will reflected how she treated her children in life. I was just about halfway through grad school when she passed away. Rita got 80%, Erin got 14%, and Mom got 1%. Amy, Quinn and I weren't even mentioned."

Jane let out a disturbed whistle. "Damn. I bet that triggered some epic fights."

Daria nodded, "In the end though, the will was obeyed. Mom was, and is, furious about it. Rita was such a bitch during the whole thing Mom…overreacted."

Jane looked at Daria with the beginning of real worry, "She didn't cut you off, did she?"

Daria made a so-so gesture with one hand. "Not completely. Dad managed to talk her into finishing paying for Quinn's and my schooling. But afterward…well some 'doing it on their own' would insure we didn't grow up into 'an adult leech' like Aunt Rita. Frankly, her timing could have been better."

"I'll say. Is every adult woman in your family a bitch?"

"I am an adult woman now too, Jane and I'm not sure I like what you are implying."

Daria grinned at Jane's expression. "I ended up doing some research. Believe it or not though, the records say yes."

"You have got to be joking."

"Not at all. If you trace the Barksdale line back through our mothers there hasn't been a single boy born to a 'Barksdale' since they came to America. In fact, every 'Barksdale' family since they immigrated has consisted of two or more girls. Erin is the only 'only child' I can find on record."

"Wow. And they were all at each other's throats?"

Daria nodded, "All the ones I could get any personal details about anyway. Quinn and I might be the closest Barksdale sisters in the last couple of centuries. Anyway, as Mom and Rita really started getting into it Quinn and I vowed to stay close…and that we would only have one child a piece to prevent a repeat with the next generation."

Jane laughed, "Well, maybe you need to give your quota to Quinn anyway. I really don't see you . . . amiga?" Jane trailed off staring at Daria's expression with open mouth shock. "You mean . . . you? Who, what, how, when?"

"All part of the big story. She's already asleep or I'd introduce you." Daria looked a little embarrassed. "Mom, cut me off at a pretty bad time in my life. Dad convinced her to keep paying for my actual classes, but there were a lot of supplies and hidden fees he couldn't get her to pay for. I was talking to my career counselor when something really odd came up."

"Odd?"

Daria nodded. "My career counselor was friends with a woman who was having some difficulties. Her friend, Penny Van Borne, wanted to have a child with her husband. Unfortunately a genetic defect had destroyed Mrs. Van Borne's reproductive tract. Not only could she not have children, she couldn't even use her own eggs for a donation. She was looking for a surrogate mother slash egg-donor who was as close to a physical match to herself as possible."

The light came on behind Jane's eyes. "And that would be you?"

Daria nodded. "Not as close of a match Aunt Amy and myself, but we could probably pass as cousins or half sisters in a crowd." Daria paused and considered her wording. "I needed the money and it was best offer I could find. I agonized for about a week before agreeing. Two weeks later they take one of my eggs, fertilize it with her husband's sperm and implant me with it. Nine months later I give birth to a healthy baby girl."

"But if you were just a rented womb how did you end up with the kid? Assuming it's her of course."

Daria nods, "She is. Apparently Mr. Van Borne was fertilizing more eggs than just mine. The others he was fertilizing the old-fashioned way. Mrs. Van Borne caught him at it and they had a big fight and messy break-up. Mrs. Van Borne couldn't cancel the contract with me, but she doesn't want the kid anymore. So when I gave birth Mrs. Van Borne put the baby straight into foster care."

"Wow, seems like a bitchy thing to do."

Daria snorts, "It was, but the child was hers by contract. I had a hard labor; by the time I got out of recovery Mrs. Van Borne and 'her' baby was gone, leaving only the final payment."

"But if Mrs. Van Bitchy took the kid, how did she end up with you?"

Daria grinned at the name she had used for Mrs. Van Borne herself. "Well, Sammy, that's Samantha Marie Morgendorffer, didn't win the foster family lottery. They were abusing her from day one. It was the acid burns that got Social Services attention." Jane's eyes widened as Daria continued, "It would take an hour to go through all the legal wrangling and illegal record checking they did, but in the end they offered custody of Sammy to me."

The light in Daria's eyes dimmed as she remembered the past. "I won't show you the pictures. They took this perfect little girl and . . . and . . . ." Daria's fists clench so hard Jane feared that they were bleeding. "I couldn't turn her away, I just couldn't. It's been 3 years and I haven't regretted taking her in for an instant."

"Wow. What do the 'rents think about all this?"

"Once Dad got over his confusion he was ecstatic. He makes a pretty good granddad; he visits at least once a month. Quinn comes by just as often. She says since I've already had one she doesn't have to rush to have a kid of her own anymore. Mom . . . had some words when I first took Samantha in. She wasn't happy I had her in the first place. We still aren't talking."

"Bummer. I do expect to be meeting the little Morgendorffer next time though."

"Agreed. Just don't to say anything about her hair. The acid left some . . . scaring, and all the hair in the region grew back white. The other kids in her kindergarten class think it's cool, but some of the other parents have been giving her problems. She's a little sensitive about it right now. And now that we've uncovered my biggest drama story of the last decade, it's your turn."

Jane shrugged. "Not quite as interesting as yours. After I finished that art program in LA I started traveling around and trying to sell paintings. I discovered that it is one thing to be a good artist and something completely different to be able to live off being an artist. I started hanging out with the 'right' people to get my stuff into galleries and before I knew it I was a happening party chick; and completely addicted."

Daria looked at Jane in concern, "Caffeine, alcohol, or drugs?"

Jane grimaced. "All of the above, plus sex. Woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and couldn't even remember what **month** it was, let alone what day. It was a big damn wakeup call. I checked myself into rehab the next morning."

Jane took a sip of her water. "Thankfully I had been putting some money from each of my sales away. It was enough to see me through rehab and the work I did while going through withdrawal sold for big bucks. I have a smaller audience now, but at least I'm not as much of a cliché as I used to be."

"But you are clean right?"

Jane nodded, "Alcohol and drug free for seven years. Got my caffeine intake is down to one cup a week, tops. Sex . . . well I'm not sex free, but I'd like to think I'm not abusing it anymore. I managed avoid catching anything permanent and I'm being a hell of a lot more careful to keep it that way now."

Jane paused, and then grimaced in memory. "Unfortunately, my works seem to have started to have started to become popular again and the crowd that got me into all that in the first place started coming to me. I had to get away before I got dragged back. That's when I decided I was going to move."

Daria smiled, "And you chose this area?"

"It's close enough to the galleries in New York that I can still make it to shows, but far enough away from them I won't be in constant contact. Then I remembered getting an e-mail saying you lived here and hey bonus."

"It'll be good to have you in the neighborhood again. Have you found a place to stay yet?"

"I bought a loft studio apartment about three blocks from here. The last owner was a painter, but he moved out to be closer to the galleries." Jane shrugged, "It's not perfect, but with a little work it will be. By the way, I really love what you've done to this place . . . . Think you could give me a hand with mine?"

Daria smiled, "I think I can free up the time."

OoOoOoO

The next day Jane returned to Daria's apartment at 2pm to continue her reunion with her once best friend, and to meet her little 'niece' of course.

She was a little surprised when Daria meet her at the door carrying her purse. "Hey amaiga, going somewhere? I thought you were going to introduce me to the little rugrat."

Daria gave Jane an odd look before grinning. "Jane, what age did I say Sammy was last night?"

Jane returned Daria's off look. "You didn't, just said she was in kindergarten. I guess she'd be five or so?"

Daria nodded at Jane's guess as she began to lead her out of the apartment building. "And what day is it?"

"Tuesday, but what does that . . ." Jane paused for a second to slap herself in the head, "kindergarten. Of course."

Daria led Jane down to her aging, but still functional, car. Gesturing Jane into the shotgun seat Daria slipped behind the wheel, but did not start the engine. "Jane." Daria began.

"Yeah amiga?"

Her voice growing emotionless, Daria began to speak, carefully not looking at Jane. "Not all of Samantha's scars are physical, so there are some important rules you need to know before you meet her."

Jane caught Daria's change in attitude, and carefully nodded.

"The usual ones you'd use for any small child are in force, watch your language, and watch where you step, that sort of thing. Samantha is a bit on the small side, so she can be easy to miss."

Daria's voice grew even colder. "There are higher rules, though, that are more important. If you break any of these rules, or I hear about you breaking any of these rules, **I** **will never see or speak to you again!**"

Jane gulped and nodded harder.

"No hitting, not even play hits or miming to hit her. No grabbing, jerking, or picking her up unless you ask first, or her life is in immediate danger. You can give her nicknames, but may not call her a brat, or any form of brat, her first family called her that. Do not tell her to 'shut up'. It's ok to tell her to quite down, but not 'shut up'. Got it?"

Jane nodded hard at each command.

"Good. Sammy's really quite around adults she doesn't know, so don't be surprised if she doesn't speak to you for a while. She didn't speak to me for the first six months. I taught her some sign language so we can communicate when she's not talking."

"Err, I'm not sure I should ask, but what happened to her foster family?" Jane asked with trepidation.

"Jail." Was Daria's only answer as she started the car.

OoOoOoO

A short drive later Daria pulled into the parking lot of a clean school with tons of greenery.

"Wow, looks a lot better than I remember Lawndale Elementary being." Jane commented as she followed Daria to the main office.

Daria nodded, "It's the newest school in the district. The condo is just out of its district, but they were having trouble getting parents to transfer to a school without a 'reputation'. They were happy enough to let me transfer Sammy here. The grounds are gorgeous, the classrooms are well appointed, and the staff is much better than you'd think a new school would have." Daria said as they entered the main office.

"And," the young secretary sitting behind the counter continued in a teasing tone, "We're willing to overlook a certain incident as long as she continues to follow the rules. I saw you coming in Daria; Samantha is already on the way down."

Daria's blushing thanks was almost covered by Jane's question, "Incident?"

"Jane meet Anne, school secretary and friend; Anne meet Jane, my oldest friend who just moved into the area. There was an incident with a parent who thought he had heard of me. He made a few allusions to my past employment and my likely current employment. Then he made a few more allusions to Sammy's probable future employment."

Anne picked up the narrative. "Principal Maxwell asked both of them to join her in her office with the SRO. The door is just barely closed when I hear two thumps and a crash. I run in and see the man, a big ex-football player, out cold on the floor with a broken nose and the SRO holding Daria out of follow-up range."

"Thankfully," Daria glared at Anne while taking the story back, "The embarrassment of being taken out by someone more than one hundred pounds lighter than him prevented Mr. Football Jock from pressing charges. Since his comments were inflammatory and made in front of students he's been asked to let his wife do the picking-up whenever possible and to do so 10 minutes late. My punishment for the whole thing is that I have to pick up Sammy 10 minutes early for the rest of the year."

"And you shouldn't have gotten that," Anne finished, "Mr. Thompson is a total pig, but Mrs. Maxwell had to be 'fair'. Frankly with all the comments he's made to other parents I'm surprised no one had already laid him out."

Any additional comments from Daria were swallowed when the office door opened behind them and a cry of, "Mommy!" rang through the office. Jane turned just in time to see a vaguely green colored blur hit Daria in the legs.

Daria squatted and held her arms out. A second latter she was standing again and the blur resolved itself into a little girl in a bright green dress. From her angle Jane couldn't seen the child's face, but she could see a thin white hair starting around the top of her head and continuing all the way to the bottom. Jane thought that could be really pretty, if it had been styled for effect instead of the simple haircut it currently had.

Jane watched her friend's face as she listen to the high speed, but low volume, recounting of the day's events. It was the happiest expression Jane could remember seeing on Daria's face. Jane slowly angled around the pair to get a look at the child's face. She caught sight of some swarthy skin and brown eyes before she was spotted by the eyes' owner. Jane had just a second to see the eyes going wide before the whole face disappeared into Daria's shoulder.

"Whoop. It's ok Sammy." Daria comforted her suddenly shy struck daughter. "This is my friend Jane. She moved into a place near ours and she's dropping by to say hi. Can you say hi to her?"

The small face stayed buried in Daria's shoulder, but a hand comes and made a gesture that Jane vaguely remembered meant hello.

Jane crouched lower to put her face at the same level as Daria's shoulder. "Hello Samantha, my name is Jane. I used to be your mom's bestest friend; can we be friends too?"

The little head nodded slightly into her mother's shoulder, but other than that gave no sign she had even heard Jane. Daria smiled at Jane and flashed a gesture Jane took as 'keep trying' as she signed her daughter out of school.

Jane got a much better look at Samantha as Daria strapped her into the child seat in the rear of the car. The picture in Jane's head had been of a mini-Daria or, if the universe was feeling ironic, a mini-Quinn. Instead, Samantha must have more heavily favored her father's appearance. Mr. Van Borne had to have had ancestors from Italy, because Sammy had the same lightly tanned skin tone Jane associated with the area. Samantha also had large brown eyes, mostly brown hair and a little button nose screamed 'cute' to anyone who cared to look.

"So," Jane asked as Daria started driving back to her condo, "What do you do for work _now_?"

Daria gave Jane a grateful smile. "Mostly I ghost-write for executives."

"How so?"

"I take high-level resumes, proposals, grant proposal and the like and rewrite them to be more effective. I did something similar for term paper in college and grad school. I also have a few books published."

Jane looked at Daria quizzically. "I don't remember seeing anything with your name on it."

Daria shrugged, "Pen name. They weren't best sellers or anything like that. Still the royalty checks are a nice bonus. What about you; chosen a preferred medium yet?"

Jane laughed, "Me? Limit my artistic flexibility? Never. I do mostly painting and sculpting in odds and ends these days. About half of what I make is commissioned, the other half goes to galleries for general sales."

"I didn't figure you for a lot of commission work. You were a little too out there for the mainstream."

Jane shrugged, "Most of the people who commission works from me are a little odd themselves. I lost some of my regular buyers after I," Jane flipped a quick glance at the back seat before rethinking her next words, "cleaned-up. The ones I kept have been understanding about the move and can't wait to see what I do next."

The rest of the trip was filled with small talk. Daria tried to get Samantha to contribute to the conversation, but she stayed silent.

They had just made it to the apartment when Jane's cell phone rang. Daria suppressed a laugh upon seeing Jane's cell phone, which had obviously felt the touch of a certain paintbrush. "Hello, Jane Lane speaking. Really? When?" Jane muted the phone and turned to Daria. "That was the electrician I hired to put in new light fixtures. The last guy to own it might have called himself an artist, but the loft has terrible lighting. They had a cancellation and can squeeze me in now instead of next week. Would you mind if I bailed on you to supervise?"

Daria nodded, "No problem Jane, Sammy and I need to go shopping for groceries anyway. Get going and well catch-up some more next time."

"Ok, give me about twenty minutes to get ready then come on." Jane told the electricians, "Catch you next time, amiga, amigette. Stay well."

"Stay well Jane." Jane was a little surprised when Samantha waved goodbye, and took it as a good sign.

OoOoOoO


	2. Chapter 2

Jane's apartment had obviously been a warehouse once, but its conversion had been well thought out. Each 'room' was a large section of the high-roofed warehouse partitioned off by permanent walls. A couple of free-standing rooms had been built along one of the side walls The designers had, in an attempt to get as much useable floor space as possible, installed flooring on top of the rooms with stairs leading up to the space. A set of track lighting Daria could just see up the stairs lead Daria to believe this was Jane's new studio space.

Daria glanced around the Jane's apartment, before setting Sammy down on the floor. "Stay away from the stairs Samantha and don't touch without permission." Samantha nodded and took the bag of toys she packed over to a large overstuffed couch in the open space that dominated the room. Daria noted a number of pictures on the wall above the couch, but could not make out who they were pictures of. What she didn't see was the riot of art she could remember in Lawndale.

Daria followed Jane to the other side of the chamber, where a large open kitchen had been installed along the same wall as the rooms. Jane had put out a small tea set and had a pot of herbal tea steeping. "Nice place Jane. Very roomy."

Jane broached the comment not said. "But it is lacking in art isn't it? Most of the stuff I had was either connected to bad memories or wasn't worth transporting when I moved. I had one hell of a fire sale before I left. Everything else I donated or gave away. I've got pictures of most of it if you want to see them." Jane's eyes darted over towards the child, who was now seated on the coach with a picture book. "Some of it's not kid safe though."

"You don't have to censor yourself too much right now," Daria said, noting Jane's caution, "Samantha has a tendency to zone out when she's reading. As long as you don't shout she won't pay any attention to what we are talking about." Daria grinned, "Unless certain food products that start with C or an I come up."

"Has a bit of a sweet tooth does she?"

Daria smiled as only an indulgent parent could. "Whenever I let her. Thankfully she's not a picky eater; she eats almost anything she gets."

"Almost?"

"She can't stand _chicken nuggets_." The last two words Daria said loud enough to cross the room. Much to Jane's amusement, she could actually hear a muttered, "Yucky!" come from the couch. "It doesn't invoke any bad memories," Daria continued, "She just can't stand them."

"Speaking of the rugrat…What did Kevin say that had you laying him out?"

Daria blinked, lost for a second, before catching on. "Peter Thompson, not Kevin Thompson; though it would be a hard to tell the difference if they were standing side-by-side. Assuming Peter kept his mouth shut at least. Think 'older Tommy Sherman' not 'grown-up Kevin'."

"As for what he said," Daria continued, "It was more a mater of what he implied. He started with 'Job A leads to Job B' and finished with 'Like Mother, like Daughter'."

"Which was bad because…"

Daria scowled, "The job he was implying wasn't something polite company talks about."

"And you belted him one. Good for you."

Daria shrugged deprecatingly. "It wasn't something I haven't heard before. He wasn't even original. Saying that about a _five year old_, however, was going way too far. And technically I belted him twice, once to the stomach and another shot to the nose."

"Wow. And he really didn't want to press charges?"

Daria shrugged, "Two hundred sixty pound ex-linebacker who hadn't gone completely to seed losing to a little woman that didn't weigh half that? He'd never hear the end of it from the other football-jocks if that got out. But enough about me, you have any brushes with the law out in LA land?"

Jane winced, "The only thing that actually ended up on my record was a charge of Public Indecency. Happened during the worst of the dark days; got a little too smashed at a party and didn't put my top back on when I left. Avoided two big raids by coincidence and wasn't charged in another."

Daria raised an eyebrow, "Sounds like you were a real party girl."

"I was. It proceeded by stages I guess. At first I was someone who was attending parties to sell art. Then I was attending parties and I sold art."

Jane paused to take a sip of her tea and to gather her thoughts. "Then I was someone who attended parties who also did art. Finally, I just attended parties and the art feel by the wayside. Those last six months before rehab I probably only did one thing outside a memory sketchbook that was even art related."

"And the drugs?"

"All part of the party scene I ended up in. Every time I'd start doing something new I'd do less art or I'd start something new after doing less art." Jane lowered her voice a bit more, "The sex started about halfway through that. My therapist said I was looking for acceptance or something like that when my art started to fade."

Jane noticed that Daria was looking at her with something close to, but not exactly pity. "If you don't mind me asking, what got you out?" Daria asked.

The laugh Jane let loose was completely humorless. "I can do better than that. I can show you."

Jane walked over to a large bookshelf and pulled down a scrap book. She flipped through a few pages before bringing it back to the table, and handing it to Daria.

"Read that." Jane said and pointed to something on the page.

Daria looked down at the clear scrap book page. The only thing on it was the back of a single business card. Written in scrawled ink was the line "You'd be a natural." Daria flipped the page over and the front of the card declared it was from a recruiter from 'Nightshade Films'.

"Is that a…" Daria trialed off. Trying, and failing, to find a diplomatic way to ask the question.

"Porno studio?" Jane asked for her, "Yup. But getting the damn card wasn't the wakeup call; accepting the audition was. Woke up the day before the shoot and thought 'at least I can pay the rent this month.' Went into my living room and saw a sculpture I made and suddenly remembered I had another way to earn money, one I hadn't done in _months_!"

Jane's smile was rueful. "Barely made to the toilet before hurling. Started to call the guy to cancel, and caught myself getting some stuff out to get high with. It was the first time I really _noticed_ how bad it had gotten. I got in touch with an old client I remembered talking about rehab once and he helped me checked into a good clinic."

"And you got out." Daria concluded.

Jane nodded, "Well after six months of withdrawal slash therapy at least. While I was gone the party scene forgot all about me and the invitations stopped coming. I started doing art again and reconnected with a bunch of my first clients again; the ones I got before things started getting really bad. Then about five months ago my art started getting popular enough that some of the people from the worst days started sending invites again."

Jane stopped, and made sure Daria was looking her in the eyes before continuing. "I'm not recovered, amiga, I'm _recovering_. I'll always be recovering. If I started going to those parties again I'd go right back to the bad place, but worse. I might not hear the wake-up call in time again."

"And hence the move."

"A couple of my clients agreed to give me a foot into the galleries in New York." Jane said, pouring a little more hot water into her tea cup. "I wanted to live someplace close enough to New York that it wouldn't take more than a day to reach, but far enough I wouldn't be tempted to try out the nightlife."

"And I'm grateful you did, I like having my friend back. And speaking as a friend I think I owe you something."

Jane blinked, "Amiga, you don't owe me anything. Hell, I'll own you before too long; I'm hoping you can help keep me on the straight and narrow."

Daria waved it off. "That one is free of charge. You've got to be on the wagon if you want to be a friend of mine, so I have a vested interest in keeping you there. No, I owe you for the story. I've been keeping a couple things to myself."

"Amiga, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

Daria shook her head. "No Jane, you need to hear this. You noticed I didn't say what Mr. Thompson thought I was doing that lead to his comments."

Jane look thought, "Didn't really think about it too much. He probably thought he saw you in a prono or something."

Daria nodded, "Something like that. He thought I was a stripper. He 'heard' I worked at a strip club with…individual services. His implications were that if I no longer worked at the club then I must have switched to the other full-time. And the he wondered if Sammy was going to grow up to be just like mommy."

"And you just punched him in the stomach? I would have aimed lower."

Daria shrugged, "I was a little too mad to think about where I was hitting him and I did break his nose. The point is that he wasn't entirely wrong."

"He wasn't?"

"No, he wasn't," Daria sighed, "Jane . . . three years ago I _was_ a stripper."

OoOoOoO


	3. Chapter 3

"He 'heard' I worked at a strip club with . . . private service. His implications were that if I no longer worked at the club then I must have switched to the other full-time. And then he wondered if Sammy was going to grow up to be just like mommy."

"And you just punched him in the stomach? I would have aimed lower."

Daria shrugged, "I was a little too mad to think about where I was hitting him and I did break his nose. The point is that he wasn't entirely wrong."

"He wasn't?"

"No, he wasn't," Daria sighed, "Jane . . . Three years ago, I was a stripper."

Jane figured she must have looked a lot like a fish while her mind processed that blunt statement. Calling on some of her therapy lessons, Jane closed her eyes and visibly pulled herself together.

"Ok," Jane said slowly, not opening her eyes yet. "I would say something about the Twilight Zone, myself, and getting lost without a map, but I'm not really one to talk. I mean, a Lane that's actually dried out and in therapy?"

Jane opened her eyes again. "I haven't pictured you as mother before, let alone the mother bear from hell vibes I get from you. It just wasn't something I'd have given much thought."

Daria gave Jane a wry smile. "But you would never have thought of me as a stripper at all would you?"

Jane nodded.

"I wasn't actually a stripper. I was a topless waitress in an 'executive' club."

Jane nodded, "I'm still having a hard time picturing a place that would hire you. . . no offense."

"None taken. But I'm taking it you haven't really looked at me yet?" Daria grinned at Jane's expression. "Okay, describe how high school Daria looked. Be honest."

Jane closed her eyes and brought her memories of her best friend forward. "You were a little on the short side. Had a little bit of extra weight on the thighs. I always thought you had a little more on top than I did. Hmm; now that I think about it, I've never seen you in less than a T-shirt and skirt so I can't really prove that."

"And I've never checked the tags on your bras before, so I can't prove it either," Daria said as she got out of her chair.

"Now," Daria continued, as she doffed the light jacket she was wearing and walked over to Jane's side of the table, "put that image of high school Daria aside and really take a look at me now."

Jane shrugged, but obeyed. Starting from the top, Jane looked at Daria's hair . . . which was styled and had light red highlights? Both eyebrows hitting her hairline, Jane started taking the instructions a lot more seriously.

Lower down Jane once again noted the slimmer and more stylish frames perched on Daria's nose. This time Jane also noticed the thinly applied makeup, obviously applied by someone who knew what she was doing.

Next was a mild orange-colored polo shirt. It was unbuttoned just enough to show the beginning of cleavage before flowing down over . . . .

Jane blinked, and doubled checked her findings. Jane then quickly glanced down to her own modest bust before looking back to Daria's more . . . generous attributes and back to her own. Jane's eyes returned this time to Daria's eyes, which were rolled in exasperation.

"Yes, they're real." Daria sighed. "I'm all natural, Jane."

"Then how?" Jane stuttered, gesturing at her own chest for emphasis. "You weren't anywhere near that big when I last saw you, amiga."

"Two things: the first was genetics. According to Aunt Sarah, my dad's sister, you've never meet her, Morgendorffer women have always been late-bloomers and . . . top-heavy." Daria explained.

"And the other?" Jane asked, genuinely curious.

Daria pointed over her shoulder. "That would be her doing."

Jane glanced past Daria and saw Sammy doing something with a coloring book. "And how did Sammy contribute to you being Busty McBrain?"

Daria sighed. "Most women get a little more up top when they get pregnant, Jane. I wasn't any different."

"Well, don't mind me if I get a little jealous." Jane said, her eyes quickly checking out the rest of Daria's new shape. Daria's skirt was modest, but the legs that emerged were shapely and well toned before ending in a pair of comfortable looking flats. "I bet Quinn's ecstatic about her own, too. I also see you're not wearing boots anymore."

Daria shrugged. "I still own a pair, but I don't use them for everyday wear. They were a little much when my ankles swelled during pregnancy and I never really went back to them."

Daria smirked. "And as for Quinn; she seems to be taking after the Barksdale side more than the Morgendorffer one." From Daria's expression, Jane figured it was something the older sister never allowed the younger to forget.

"Ok, so little Daria grew-up into one hot momma," Jane joked as Daria rolled her eyes and returned to her original seat. "How did that get you get hired by a strip bar?"

"Executive strip club," Daria corrected. "Mrs. Van Borne wrote one hell of a contract, and one of the clauses involved staying fit while I was carrying 'her' baby. I got into the habit of regular exercise. Then there were some complications during the labor and I had to have some physical therapy while I was recovering. Before I knew it I had my pre-baby figure back; with some additions." Daria gestured to her breasts for emphasis.

"The problem," Daria continued, "was that therapy wasn't covered by the contract. After I was done with it my payments for being a surrogate weren't going to cover the rest of school like I needed them to."

Jane was a little shocked. "So you go through all that; carry a kid for nine months, give birth and give her up . . . And you didn't even get all the money you needed?"

"Not enough to cover everything I wanted it to."

"That sucks."

Daria could only shrug in response. "I was a bit harsher when I did the math, but I agree completely."

"I was in class, looking though the campus want ads when Ashley Rivenbark approached me and asked me if I was looking for a job." Daria paused, and thought through her next sentence. "She was a classmate, about Dad's age, and we'd had classes together ever since I was an undergrad. We were about as close as Jodie and I."

"She's part owner of The Meeting Place, an upscale 'executive' club on the other side of town. They're a popular meeting place for 'relaxed' executive meetings and the like. A couple of their waitresses had been headhunted the night before by one of the less . . . savory strip clubs in town and they were going to be really short handed."

Jane pointed a finger at her friend, "And they were so short handed they wanted to hire you?"

"There was a business convention in town and they were already short handed. They needed me more as a waitress, and less as eye candy." Daria shrugged. "She offered me basically double the hourly rate in bonuses to stand in until they hired replacements. And I could wear skimpy top instead of going topless if I had to."

"Even the basic wages were twice what I was getting editing reports for students and in fewer hours a week than I was spending editing." Daria shrugged. "I could earn two, almost three, months of expenses in less than a week. I couldn't really afford not to take her up."

"So you started working at a strip club."

Daria nodded "I looked like a tomato those first few days, but by the end of the fourth day I had it under control."

Daria paused took a sip from her tea. "I'll be honest Jane; if I had been anywhere but The Meeting Place I wouldn't have lasted the first week. It wasn't a strip club so much as an off-site meeting place with an . . . interesting background. Most of the people there paid as much attention to the waitresses as you would in another restaurant and the hands-off policy was strictly enforced."

"It couldn't have been that easy."

"Oh, it wasn't. The only thing I've done that was harder was having Samantha. I thought I was going to be fired well before the last day of my temporary position."

"But they decided to keep you on?" Jane hazarded.

Daria nodded, "The last batch of waitresses were hired for 'talent' more than their ability to wait tables." Daria's face became rueful. "And while I wasn't the best waitress in the world, I was improving. I was hired for the last open slot under the condition that I continued to improve."

Jane laughed. "I'll bet the tips weren't great as waitress in a topless club with a top." Jane blinked when Daria looked down and mumbled something. "What was that, amiga?"

Daria sighed and repeated loud enough for Jane to hear. "I stopped wearing the top after the first month."

"Ok . . . why?"

Daria sighed again, "You know the expression 'more naked than being naked'?"

Jane nodded.

"That's what it was like. I felt it was time."

"And how long were you a waitress in this 'executive' club?"

"Just under a year and a half. I made some good friends and won employee of the month four times. The roots of my current job got started there too."

"I thought you said you edited for big wigs." Jane's eyes grew wide as the facts connected. "You mean you started editing things for guys you meet in a strip club?"

Daria nodded. "About three months in I dropped some advice to some arguing executives at one of my tables. Nothing big, I just settled an argument about their proposal, I completely forgot about it after they left. The next week one of the guys came back and asked for me as his waitress. Tells me he used my ideas and got promoted because of it. He asked for a little more advice on a different subject, dropped a huge tip, and left."

Daria sighed, "Before I know it, most of my tables are asking for advice. Finally one of them asks if I 'knew' anybody who could edit. I told him I had a 'friend' who could, and told him to talk to my boss. Mrs. Rivenbark set herself up as an intermediary. People would send her documents and payments and I would do the work. By the end of my ninth month there I was earning more editing that I was waiting tables, if you didn't count the tips."

Jane lifted an eyebrow. "If you were making more editing, why did you stay at the club?"

Daria sighed, "Partly it was because I could do both at the same time. I was comfortable working there by that point so there wasn't any reason not to double my income. The other primary reason was the Rivenbarks themselves."

"Your bosses?"

"After everything that happened before I had a few lingering…issues. I needed parental advice, but Mom wasn't talking to me and it wasn't something I thought Dad could understand." Daria shrugged. "Mrs. Rivenbark was there when I really needed it."

Jane nodded, "That, I can understand. I have a few clients who have to force me to take their money when I do something for them."

"My client base had expanded to the point where being a waitress just couldn't keep up anymore. Two months before Child Services approached me about Samantha I switched to full time editing. I still talk to the Rivenbarks regularly and I've dropped in on them a few times when Dad or Quinn were here to look after Sammy."

"And what do all those bigwigs think about getting advice from an ex-topless waitress?"

"Only thirty percent of my client base knows I used to work at The Meeting Place. Maybe five percent know I worked in the 'front' half of the club, the rest think I worked in an office. For the ones that do know; well, I'm hardly the first woman to take her clothes off to get through school."

"It's not really a big secret outside of work." Daria continued. "Most my recent friends know; a few worked at The Meeting Place themselves. I think Quinn suspects, but I haven't told her. Mom and Dad don't have a clue."

Jane nodded. "So how did this Thompson jerk find out?"

"I'm not sure. He's not one of my clients and I don't remember ever seeing him in the club. He did assume I was stage staff instead of wait staff. Frankly I'd heard worse, but when he started talking trash about my daughter . . . ."

"Mama bear time?"

Daria nodded, "With mauling. And speaking of small children; Sammy, snack time."

//////

Jane studied Daria's daughter as she snacked on a handful of grapes. Jane found it interesting to watch, as Sammy ate each grape with surgical precession and total seriousness.

"So, Sammy what do you like to do for fun?"

Samantha glanced at her mother for approval before making several gestures that Jane did not understand.

"Sammy says she like to read," Daria translated. "She's also currently obsessed with Legos."

"Like mother like daughter then?"

Daria shrugged.

"Samantha is a lot more social than I was at her age." Daria explained. "But she prefers quiet activities when she's not someplace she knows."

"Well in the future you can be as loud as you want to be here." Jane told the child. "I lived with my brother for year and I don't think you can be louder than him."

"Jane, wild elephants couldn't be louder than your brother."

"See?" Jane said to Samantha. "Stay downstairs and you can be as loud as you want."

Samantha nodded very solemnly and in a quiet little voice said, "Thank you."

Jane beamed, while Daria gave her daughter a proud smile.

The next hour was spent discussing current projects for work. Jane was preparing for her first gallery show on the east coast while Daria was preparing some grant proposals.

When Daria noticed Samantha nodding off over her picture book, she drew things to a close. Daria quickly put Samantha's things away and picked her drowsing daughter up.

Daria was saying her goodbyes, when Jane heard a quiet question.

"Is Jane an aunty?" Sammy asked her mother.

Jane's raised her eyebrows. "That reminds me," Jane teased, "I didn't ask you about your love-life earlier, anything you want to share?"

Daria ignored the question and answerd her daughter, "No; Jane is not an 'aunty'."

If Jane hadn't been watching Samantha very closely, she would have missed the small smile that passed over the young child's face.

"Is Jane an uncle?"

Daria sputtered as Jane laughed.

"Okay," Jane declared, "now I _really_ want to know about your love life."

"Not a chance in hell, Lane."

OoOoOoO

And this is where the story ends, for now at least. The possibility of additional parts exists, but I am working on other stories for now.


End file.
